Chapter 4 4

The moment Damien left the room, Elena collapsed back into her chair, the air feeling heavier than before. She couldn't shake the sensation of his eyes on her, even though he was long gone. His words played over and over in her mind: "You're stronger than you realize. And you're not in this alone."

She wanted to believe him, but her instincts told her to tread carefully. Trusting Damien Blackwood felt like walking a tightrope over a pit of fire. One misstep, and she'd lose everything.

Still, a small part of her whispered that maybe-just maybe-there was more to him than his ruthless exterior. Maybe beneath the layers of control and power, there was a man fighting his own battles, a man who needed her as much as she needed a way out of this mess.

Elena shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She couldn't afford to let emotions cloud her judgment. Not now.

Later that evening, Elena found herself sitting in her modest apartment, a mug of tea growing cold in her hands. The space, once a haven of comfort, felt oppressively small tonight. Papers from her father's estate were scattered across the coffee table, reminders of the chaos she had inherited.

Her phone buzzed on the cushion beside her. She picked it up, half expecting another message from Mia. But it wasn't Mia this time. It was Damien.

The text was simple:

We need to talk. Meet me at the penthouse tomorrow, 8 PM.

Elena stared at the message, her stomach twisting. There was no question of whether or not she'd go. Damien wasn't the kind of man you ignored. But she hated how easily he seemed to pull her into his orbit, how effortlessly he commanded her attention.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed back:

Fine. I'll be there.

She hit send, her heart pounding as if she had just made a deal with the devil.

The next evening, Elena stood outside Damien's penthouse, her nerves fraying with every passing second. The building loomed above her, its sleek, modern design a testament to Damien's wealth and influence.

When the elevator doors opened to his private floor, she stepped into a space that was every bit as intimidating as the man himself. The penthouse was all glass and steel, with sweeping views of the city skyline. The decor was minimal but luxurious-perfectly curated, like everything else in Damien's life.

He was waiting for her in the living room, a glass of scotch in hand. His tie was loosened, and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, giving him a more relaxed appearance. But his eyes were as sharp as ever, watching her every move as she entered.

"You're punctual," he said, his lips curving into a faint smile.

"You didn't exactly give me much choice," Elena replied, crossing her arms.

Damien chuckled softly, gesturing for her to sit. "I see you're in a mood tonight."

"I'm always in a mood when you're involved," she shot back, sinking into the plush armchair opposite him.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Noted. I'll keep that in mind for the future."

Elena rolled her eyes. "Let's skip the pleasantries, Damien. What do you want?"

His smile faded, replaced by a more serious expression. He set his glass down on the table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I wanted to talk about the deal," he said, his voice steady. "And about what it really means for you."

Elena's pulse quickened, but she forced herself to remain calm. "Go on."

"I told you before that I need someone I can trust," Damien began, his gaze locked on hers. "But this isn't just about trust. It's about partnership. I don't need a yes-man, Elena. I need someone who will challenge me, someone who will fight for what they believe in-even if it means standing up to me."

She blinked, taken aback by his candor. "And you think that's me?"

"I know it is," Damien said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "You've already proven it. You didn't back down at the auction. You didn't let me intimidate you. You're exactly the kind of person I need by my side."

Elena's heart raced at his words, but she couldn't let herself be swayed so easily. "What's the catch, Damien? There's always a catch with you."

He smirked, but there was no malice in it. "The catch is that you'll have to trust me. And I know that's not something that comes easily for you."

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "You're asking a lot."

"I am," he admitted. "But I'm offering a lot in return."

Elena studied him, trying to read the man behind the carefully constructed facade. For all his confidence and charm, there was a vulnerability in his eyes that he couldn't quite hide.

"And what happens if I say no?" she asked softly.

Damien's expression darkened, and for a moment, she thought he might snap. But then he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Then I'll respect your decision," he said quietly. "But you should know that walking away won't make this go away. The problems your father left behind-they'll still be there. And without my help, I don't know if you'll be able to fix them."

Elena's chest tightened. She hated how much sense he made, how easily he pointed out the flaws in her own arguments.

"I need time to think," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Damien nodded, standing and reaching for his glass. "Take all the time you need," he said, his tone softer now. "But don't take too long, Elena. Time isn't something either of us can afford to waste."

As she left the penthouse that night, her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Damien's words had shaken her, but it was his sincerity that scared her the most. For the first time, she wondered if trusting him might not be a risk-but a necessity.